


Blue Umbrella Sky

by HazelBite



Category: Full Metal Alchemist
Genre: Gen, M/M, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-05
Updated: 2012-06-05
Packaged: 2017-11-07 00:07:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/424705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HazelBite/pseuds/HazelBite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by, and title borrowed from, the song "The Summer Wind" by Frank Sinatra.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue Umbrella Sky

**Author's Note:**

> Written for 30 kisses on LJ. Prompt #15: perfect blue.

You fall down into the shade of the tall grass, linking your hands behind your head and crossing one ankle over the other.

The warm breeze whips the grass into a frenzy around you and the tall stalks dance in time to the sound of water lapping idly against the dock. You reach a hand up toward the empty sky, such a clear blue that, if you stared long enough, made you feel that if not for the solid earth beneath you, you could fall forever into its depths. You close your eyes and imagine coming free from the ground and floating away, no clouds to stop you.

You sense a long shadow fall over you and you open your eyes to see him smiling down at you, blocking the sun for a moment. His short hair ruffles in the wind as the light forms a glowing nimbus around his head, as though the sun has found another way to shine.

He reaches for your outstretched hand and grips it tightly as though he's trying to ground you, as though he knew your thoughts from only a second ago.

You pull him down beside you and he sprawls half on top, legs entwined and his hand on your chest and, for a moment, you are falling again, not into the sky but into the blue of his eyes. He looks at you in amusement, grin still playing around his face and you can't help but smile back before he kisses you lightly with sun warmed lips and you wonder if he sees the golden grass reflected in your own eyes.

He lies back against your shoulder and you both stay there for a minute, an hour, a lifetime, you can't remember. You can't remember anything else but that instant out of time and the way his soft hair tickles your face, the way your hand traces an invisible line down his bare arm or the way only you can make him shiver in the middle of summer.

But, before you can get lost in it, the image begins to fade away and you wake, alone and cold in an empty flat, every half-hearted attempt of the radiator to turn on clanking its way into your memory with its harsh reminder of how many worlds away you are from that lake and the grass and the heat and _him_. But you already know that there is nothing that can stop you from remembering how his lips had tasted that summer; of sweet grass, lemonade and the summer wind.


End file.
